Radio 4 explores the boundaries of comic taste

Gillian Reynolds on Radio 4's discussion of last year's Ross and Brand episode
and Radio 3's "tedious" play, In the Absence of Geoff.

Alexei Sayle was among the comedians who condemned Ross and BrandPhoto: Getty

By Gillian Reynolds

7:19PM GMT 05 Jan 2009

Mark Lawson, on Radio 4's Front Row last Tuesday night, explored the boundaries of humour with some cutting-edge comedians. The peg was the notorious Radio 2 October episode, when on his regular Saturday night show Russell Brand initiated calls to the answerphone of actor Andrew Sachs.

Just to remind you, during one call studio guest Jonathan Ross shouted that Brand had "f---ed" Sachs's granddaughter. The running joke thereafter became their attempts to prevent this being heard by Sachs while compounding the original offence by adding more. The programme was recorded and thus required to comply with BBC regulations on fairness, privacy and decency. It was passed for broadcast by its producer, by a supervisory Radio 2 executive and by Radio 2's Controller, Lesley Douglas. On transmission, it attracted very few complaints. After newspaper and on-air publicity it drew thousands. Lesley Douglas resigned, as did the head of compliance. Brand left. Ross was suspended for three months, will return in three weeks.

There has been much debate whether this was "edgy" humour, acceptable to the audience for which it was intended, or generally unacceptable. Mark Lawson, trying to probe the difference between the two, initially confessed himself surprised by the unanimity of opinion among his contributors that the Ross-Brand episode was "objectionable".

Only one, Australian comedian Brendan Burns, said it was "preposterous" to "kowtow to 30,000 retards". Lawson shied at the use of the word "retard". Burns said the only thing that offended him was "people who take offence". Everyone else, including Alexei Sayle, Chris Addison, Natalie Haynes, Frank Skinner, Dara O'Briain and Chris Rock, all of whom have tested boundaries of language and taste, drew back. Honesty, an engagement with difficult issues, using laughter to expose and heal were fine. Bullying, self-importance, contempt for women and a desire to shock for shock's sake were not.

This was an honest attempt to pin down some of the issues which have exercised many a commentator. As most people judged them more or less instantly, it was brave of Front Row to revisit them at the old year's end. Context and intent emerged as the true determinants, a rational enough basis on which, in this chastened new year, to approach such highly emotive subjects as the giving and taking of offence.

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Yet where would we be without a bit of offence now and again? Every listener knows the joy of sudden switch off. Whenever any programme mentions the new Doctor Who, my finger moves faster than D'Artagnan's sword. Why is the BBC allowed to publicise itself so pervasively? When Rob Cowan on Radio 3 last Friday started discussing ringtones on mobile phones and recommended Coronation Scot as one (what cheek! It was the Paul Temple signature tune for years!) I almost knocked over the ironing board rushing to shut him up. Grrr.

So what was I doing spending time with Liza Tarbuck and Martin Freeman on Radio 2 on Saturday morning? This is the latest replacement for the Jonathan Ross show. Offensive? You bet, especially to anyone without a desire to live in Liza Tarbuck's handbag. What has happened to her? She is a good actress, has done Just a Minute, presented Radio 2 shows in the past. But on Saturday she burbled. And burbled. Five minutes passed between records as she did Olympic standard burbles about shopping, iPods, chives, borage. No wonder Freeman said, at one point, "Am I still here? What am I doing here?" He was propping her up, of course, with wit, skill, discretion. Why is anyone's guess. Unless Ross is paying them.

Just as tedious was Radio 3's play on Sunday night, In the Absence of Geoff, by Charlotte Jones. Billed as a comedy, it came in on a wave of high expectation, went out on a tide of grrrs. Seldom have 90 minutes passed more slowly as Geoff, a fat, failed salesman of fitness equipment fell out with his wife and daughter, did a bunk, faked amnesia, found happiness. It was full of lifelike detail but not for a nanosecond did its characters seem alive. They made me want to reach into the radio and pluck the scripts from their tiny hands. I listened to the end. It felt just lovely to switch them off.